


Just Us Now

by Hemogobbler



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Battle, Childhood Friends, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Highly Capable Toddlers, Memory Loss, Sparring, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-09-28 05:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hemogobbler/pseuds/Hemogobbler
Summary: Bright-eyed Adora, a young force captain in training, is tasked with introducing Catra, the newest cadet, to life in the Horde.A three-part exploration of the beginning of Adora and Catra's relationship, completed for #catradoraweek2018





	1. Chapter 1

“That is why I am placing her under your charge for the duration of this period, Adora.”

 

Shadow Weaver was holding Adora’s chin, raising it slightly so as to have their eyes meet. Adora held the gaze admirably, for she could see somewhere beyond the cold, unwavering scrutiny of Shadow Weaver’s eyes a faith of sorts, perhaps even appreciation. Adora nodded.

 

“Between us, Adora, I ask you not to trust this wild creature. Our unmanned security were unable to capture her, and it took careful coordination between two squads _who had much more important duties than this_ to eventually surround her,” Her voice shook, ever so slightly.

 

“I have… discussed with her the benefits of staying with us, as well as the consequences of any attempts to escape. She will not want for anything with the Horde; whatever squalid existence she maintained before this _will be forgotten_. Even still, watch her. She may prove a challenge even for you, my sweet,” With a long finger, she softly curled a lock of Adora’s hair around the little soldier’s ear.

 

“Yes, Shadow Weaver,” Adora saluted. Shadow Weaver left on a current of darkness that spilled out from beneath her, its writhing mass wrapping around the walls as she moved. Adora let out a deep exhale and turned to the entrance to the dorms.

 

Sat on Adora’s bunk was a small girl overflowing with hair. Two dark, fluffy ears were jutting out, flopping in random directions intermittently. She was freckled, and had markings down her tanned arms. The rags she wore smelled of burns, and a few distinctive markings of the Horde’s stun lasers adorned her arms and legs. She held her knees to her chest, hiding her face. Black claws stemmed from her fingers and fuzzy feet. Of most interest to Adora was the tail that curled tightly around these feet. Adora had never met anyone quite like this, and she was friends with a lizard boy.

 

“Cadet!” Adora said loudly, wishing to be firm. The girl looked up in shock, blue and yellow eyes wracked with fear, doing their best to puzzle out the newest threat now facing her. Adora forgot what she was going to say, and felt awful in realizing her imitation of Shadow Weaver.

 

“Oh - sorry, I… uh,” Adora stammered as the girl tilted her head. “I... like your tail.” Adora would have smacked her own face were it not prohibited on grounds of showing weakness. The girl crossed her legs and stared at her, less wary. ”I mean, um, my name’s Adora?” It came out as a question, and Adora, beginning to turn red with embarrassment, could only hope Shadow Weaver wasn’t listening in on this.

 

For a split second Adora was certain she saw the young girl smirk before she hid her face once again. Adora moved closer, and without looking up the newest cadet shuffled back from the edge of the bed to the pillow.

 

“That’s my bed,” Adora said, and quickly followed up with, “But you can take bottom bunk if you want, I don’t mind!”

 

“Go away,” the girl hissed, claws extending. She looked at Adora with disdain, fangs showing. She was tensed up, angry and frightened at the same time.

 

Adora instinctively adopted a ready stance, which made the little cat raise an eyebrow. She truly couldn’t figure out if this blond girl was an enemy or not. Adora began to worry as she had, for whatever reason, not expected resistance. If this turned into a fight, Shadow Weaver would not seek retribution on Adora, that much she knew. Whatever happened to this girl after that would be Adora’s fault. At the darkest hour in her young life she was saved by a low rumbling coming from the angry feline person’s stomach.

 

“Hungry? Wanna get some food?” Adora asked, overjoyed. The girl let out a faint ‘mew’ at the words, and nodded resentfully, ashamed of her hunger. She got up off the bed and followed Adora out of the dorms.

 

It was getting darker out, and the cafeteria would be closed by the time they got there, but with a little persuasion Adora was sure that Octavia would sneak them some food. Adora didn’t want to know how the tentacled enforcer got stuck with caring for the cadets - Octavia was a relentless, no-mercy kind of warrior in combat, though Adora suspected she was a softie at heart.

 

Outside, it was as nice a night as the Fright Zone could offer: pungent smoke from innumerable factories billowed across the murky orange horizon. The curved peaks of various military installations reached up into the air and lodged their hooks into the sky, blocking what few stars dared to defy the smog. Clawing at the ground below, it was as if the metallic landscape was merely the top of a great mechanical beast that slept underground, waiting to dig its nails in and rip apart the earth.

 

“It’s nicer when the sun’s out,” Adora said, mostly to herself.

 

Their stroll through the Horde base was undisturbed, though Adora caught her charge eyeing up exits, scalable walls and convenient platforms the whole way. The girl didn’t try to hide it, which infuriated Adora.

 

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” said Adora. “It’s probably impossible to escape the Fright Zone on foot, it goes on forever, and there’s tons of robots out there waiting to drag back deserters.”

 

The little cat said nothing, sizing up a pair of guards as they went by the armoury. It was almost curfew, so the base was quiet. The enormous barrel of a tank caught her eye, and distracted her so that she almost walked into Adora. Adora resisted the urge to recite the statistics concerning this particular weapon of war, while the girl played off her stumbling by shoving her hands into her pockets and gazing, carefree, into the sky.

 

“So… you have a name?” Adora soon asked, to which she received no response. “Oh, come on!” She huffed, irritated. Hands behind her head now, the quiet feline grinned. “That’s okay,” Adora maintained. “We’ll get there.”

 

“Will we?” The girl asked suddenly.

 

“I hope so.”

 

Inside the cafeteria, only Octavia and a chef remained. The chef, a very old man with light skin and blinding white hair, wiped down the counter. Octavia, meanwhile, was stacking chairs slowly and methodically. It must have been a while since the octopus lady saw combat: she was wearing standard kitchen garb, with her green mandibles and ear fins tucked neatly behind her head in a hair net, as well as a white apron that was too small for her. Adora put on her biggest, brightest eyes and walked over with the hungry cat.

 

Seeing Adora, Octavia smiled. On seeing the girl next to her, however, she squinted.

 

“I’d watch this one, Adora. I heard about her,” She knelt down to be eye level with the Horde’s newest celebrity. “Vicious, so they say,” She growled, and the girl growled back, baring her teeth. Octavia returned a wide grin, showing her own teeth. “Looks kinda scrawny to me, though,” she laughed, and stood up to her full height, towering above the two girls, hands on her hips and tentacles poised in a display of size.

 

Adora heard the claws extend and in a split second grabbed at her companion’s tail. _Please don’t_ , she thought. She did it without thinking, eyes wide as the person the tail belonged to looked at her with disgust and slapped her arm away. Octavia looked as though she would fall over laughing.

 

“Haha, I take it back, Adora, you’ve clearly got her under control. All it takes is a tug of the tail, eh, good to know!”

 

“Please, Octavia, can we get some food? It’s curfew soon and... I’m responsible for her,” Adora said, hurried and with eyes full of worry. She rubbed her arm nervously, while the new girl refused to look at either of them.

 

“Oh yeah?” Octavia said, immediately understanding. Her voice grew quieter. “Orders from Shadow Momma herself, huh? Good luck with that, kid.” She sighed. “I’ll get you a couple of ration packs. The good ones. Scrawny here could do with a lil’ protein by the looks of things,” She scuffed the girl’s hair, who stepped away, scowled, and began grooming her mane.

 

“Especially if she ever wants to have guns _AS BIG AS THESE!_ ” Octavia’s voice rose to its full potential as she performed a well-practiced flex, her bulging biceps lighting stars in Adora’s eyes. The feisty kitty, now finished with fixing her hair, stuck her tongue out, unimpressed.

 

The food was devoured long before they made it anywhere near the dorms. Adora didn’t need to offer her share, it was gone before she had the chance to say anything. She had never seen anyone enjoy Horde rations so much - it must have been a while since she ate. Adora took the chance to describe the things they walked past, gushing over the penetrative ability of the Horde walker’s railgun.

 

“Literally! Like from here…” She pointed to the nearest building, “Through like fifteen concrete walls, a replica of a princess’ shield, _another_ walker, to there…” She pointed towards the base’s fortified wall on the other side, “...And _even then_ we still couldn’t find the shell. It was so cool!”

 

While the feline’s eyes were entirely focused on annihilating the food, her ears were picking up on the sounds of destructive power, which was more than enough of an audience for Adora. When she had exhausted herself speaking, her eyes turned downcast, and she looked at her comrade.

 

“Sorry I... pulled your tail. I got scared and didn’t know what else to do. But you were really gonna take a swipe at her, weren’t you?”

 

“I still might. I don’t like her face.”

 

Adora giggled, it wasn’t the first time that she had heard such a sentiment. In the midst of the courtyard, she caught sight of a line of training dummies, stuffed full of fresh straw for training tomorrow. It was dark, the orange of dusk having receded entirely, leaving a dim grey sky that even the moon struggled to light up. It was after curfew now, but Adora wanted to see something.

 

“Come here,” Adora said, holding the girl’s hand and pulling her towards the targets. They were six foot tall, though at least two of those feet comprised the stick that the torsos were held up by. They wore little tiaras made of cardboard, and had varying hairstyles made up of straw - the kids and more creative types couldn’t resist giving them personality.

 

“Let’s see what you can do,” Adora said, only just realising that they were still holding hands. They pulled away at the same time, and the cat hastened to speak.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Something like this,” Adora said, adopting a combat stance.

 

Hands raised in front of her face, she placed one leg behind the other before launching a flurry of hits at the dummy. She went for jabs to either side initially, getting a feel for the momentum and seeing how the dummy would respond, rocking from side to side at each blow. Eventually, she went for a straight to the head, but didn’t quite have the height to connect firmly. Dishonored by the inanimate princess, Adora opted for an uppercut that she had to jump to fully accomplish, but at last the dummy fell to the floor with a satisfying thud, a few stray pieces of straw following it down to the ground.

 

“Pff, finally,” was the girl’s response. They moved to the next dummy. She cracked her fingers and raised her head before rotating her neck to the left, then right. In an instant came the sound of claws, and a violent twist of her body that spun her around to face Adora. She was grinning cruelly as straw burst from the dummy’s neck. It cascaded downwards, and the tiara followed, slowly. Deflated, defeated, the dummy fell with the lightest push of her tail.

 

Adora gawked, impressed. “Wow, I mean, we’re supposed to take prisoners alive, but… yeah. Wow. Good job!” She beamed a genuine smile that disarmed the ferocious girl. Before she could respond, a deep, authoritative voice shouted at them.

 

“Hey! What are you kids doing?” A large woman with an even larger shield made her way towards them. “It’s past curfew, get back to the barracks!” Her footsteps resounded as she made her way towards them, shield nearly splintering the floor with each step.

 

She was slow-moving, heavily weighed down by the armour of the Fright Zone’s elite guard. On top of this, she wielded a long spear, the tip of which sparked with an unknown energy. The mischievous cat couldn’t resist blowing a raspberry before Adora hastily dragged her back home.

 

On their last stop before bed Adora took the new recruit to the showers, adjacent to the dorms, where she would be able to clean up and get a shiny new Horde uniform. They had the whole area to themselves. It was a vast space, painted an immaculate white from top to bottom. Tiles that looked as though they were just installed shone so that it was difficult to tell where the cubicle walls began. Adora waited just outside one of them, partially so that there wouldn’t be any escape attempts, but mainly out of a need to know more about this curious girl.

 

The water began running, and Adora tried her hardest to give the cat cadet time to relax, but she couldn’t help herself.

 

“Where did you come from?” She asked. No response. She sighed. “I don’t know much about places outside of the Fright Zone. There’s the Whispering Woods, which is dangerous, and Bright Moon, which is even more dangerous.”

 

In the absence of a reply, Adora changed the subject to one she was more personally interested in. “Do… you... have any parents?” The water was deafening. Adora rested her head against the cold tiles. “I don’t. Everyone in the Horde either has family that’s a part of it or never had anything at all. I’m on that side of things. Alone. _Was_ alone, I mean. The Horde is my family now.”

 

The purity of her surroundings gave Adora a clarity to thoughts that had swirled around her head often. All around her, it was all white. A clean wall to project herself at, and a listening ear just out of sight. She knew she would be tired tomorrow, given how late it was, but introspection came easier at night, and until now she hadn’t had anyone else to talk with quite like this.

 

“If you do have family, I’m sure you’ll see them again soon. Everyone says you fought hard… was it a ‘territory dispute’? Something like that?” Endless rushing water, a white noise that made it difficult for the feline to think. “Things like that are always over quickly. And your family will be a lot safer within the Horde, I promise.”

 

Inside the shower, the girl’s head pulsated. Burning, fraught with chaotic, competing thoughts. The day’s events repeated back to her, but distorted and uncertain. Stung by something in her brain, she turned off the shower, breathless.

 

“And if you don’t have anyone, well, now you do!” Adora said happily. She waited patiently in silence, thinking of what her parents might have looked like and what they did. Fighters, she believed, but what were they fighting? Where did they go? For some reason, it rarely made her sad, thinking of them and who they might have been - and why they had to leave her. The possibilities were so numerous that it sometimes kept her up at night imagining them all. Long-lost descendants of the First Ones? Defectors from Bright Moon? Aliens?

 

The girl emerged from the shower wrapped in an excessive amount of towels.

 

“Catra. My name is Catra,” She repeated. “Catra,” Once more, quietly to herself, clinging tightly to the towels.

 

“Nice to finally meet you, Catra,” Adora said, smiling tiredly at her new friend. She stuck out a hand jokingly, and to her surprise Catra took it, mimicking the action but not fully understanding it. They shook hands awkwardly.

 

No amount of simulated battles could compare to the feeling of fatigue that washed over Adora, and so she resolved to get to sleep as soon as possible. She took Catra to the nearest changing room and encouraged her to pick out a size for her uniform. Whatever she took would be immediately replaced, the Horde was very efficient like that. It was a child’s white and red sleeveless shirt, with a pair of green slacks that were just slightly too long for her. She cut off the excess with a claw and refused to wear shoes, claiming to be far more mobile, and deadly, without them.

 

A short time later, Adora was face to face with her bed, worn out by a hard day’s work. Light snoring came from the other cadets down the hall; the Horde’s training program from day to day was more than enough to put the young recruits into a deep sleep.  She collapsed onto the bed, groaning with relief.

 

“Oh, sorry,” Adora mumbled into her pillow. “You want bottom?” She turned over lazily to face Catra, whose eyes glowed in the dark.

 

“Keep it,” She said, pouncing to the top bunk in one swift motion. Some fidgeting later, and Catra’s tail dropped from above, swaying contently in front of Adora’s face. It was hypnotising, and Adora could feel her eyelids getting heavier. Before sleep’s sweet embrace could take her, though, Catra asked, “So, no bunkmate? Why not?”

 

Adora, exhausted and far too honest, said, “I think people are scared of me. Well, Shadow Weaver, which I get. But that means me as well, ‘cos she’s my tutor, y’know?”

 

After a long period of silence, in which Adora caught exactly four seconds of sleep, Catra said, “I’m not scared of you. Or her.”

 

“Mmm… good. Means… impress them tomorrow… the squad… and her.. combat test…” She went silent, breathing softly and clutching her pillow.

 

Catra stared at the ceiling and saw Shadow Weaver’s eyes stare back. Red now, not white. They faded into the dark before reappearing, barely visible, at the very end of the dorms, taking up a distrustful vigil over all. Catra scoffed and turned over, head down. In the black of her mind those eyes remained, becoming the only thought her brain allowed. She poked her head over the side of the bed and watched Adora sleep. After a time, she too fell asleep, though it was anything but restful.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra meets Adora's squad, and they begin a combat challenge that none of them will forget.

Adora stood on her tiptoes so that she could see Catra sleeping on the top bunk. She was curled around herself on top of the sheets. Her tail ran between her legs, and her head was hidden from the world. Adora considered how best to wake her up. Touching was a definite no, unless she wanted to risk a reactionary swipe.

 

“Catra,” Adora said quietly, yawning. Cadets groggily filtered out of the dorms, heading off to breakfast. Catra didn’t stir, and so Adora tried again. She moved to the other side of the bed in order to be closer to her face. “Hey, Catra.”

 

The young cat murmured and gradually lifted her head to rest on her arms. Still, her eyes didn’t open. Adora called her name again and at once they went wide. Catra shot up, her sharp eyes probing Adora, and then she twisted her head to take in her surroundings. She was frantically searching for familiarity, which she could only find in the blond girl waiting patiently for her.

 

“Hi,” Adora said.

 

“Hi,” Catra replied, taking a breath and rubbing the sleep from her dark eyes. “What’s going on?”

 

“Breakfast time,” If last night was any indication, the way to motivate this feline was food.

 

“I’m good,” Catra lay back down.

 

Adora balled her hands into fists and spoke with determination, at full volume now, “Sorry! No choice!” She tugged at the blanket hard, dragging it out from underneath the sleepy kitty. Catra was surprised at Adora’s strength: her small frame gave nothing away. In retaliation, Catra kicked at the grabby hands, claws mercifully retracted.

 

“We’ve got warm-ups in an hour and then the combat trial!” Adora’s voice was bold and excited. She was eager to prove herself, to demonstrate to everyone that she could shoulder the weight of expectations on her.

 

A single fluffy ear darted upwards, “Who are we fighting?” Catra asked. She rose and leaned back on her arms.

 

“I dunno, usually it’s a simulation, or team battles against trainers, or sparring with each other. This time is special, though, I think. They’ve really been pushing us the past few days.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Catra said, not understanding what ‘simulation’ meant. “Breakfast better be nicer than that stuff last night. I’ve had tastier garbage.”

 

Adora scrunched up her face, “You’ve…” But dropped it. “You weren’t complaining about the food yesterday!”

 

Catra merely shrugged, and hopped off the bed. There _was_ something different about her today, Adora thought. More confident and natural, somehow. The power of sleep, she assumed.

 

At breakfast, they actually found the selection of rations to be pleasant, which made Adora a little nervous. Good nutrition usually led to a hard workout. Octavia was working there, and gave the two of them extra fruit pots. They found a couple of free seats amongst the maintenance workers, who would shortly have to clean up the destroyed dummies that the pair left behind the previous night. Catra traded her fruit pot with one of them for some mysterious jerky, which she wolfed down in a flash.

 

The cafeteria bustled with noise; Catra had never seen so many people in one room before. Kids and fully grown Horde soldiers alike shared the space. Some of the Force Captains helped the children pick out their food, or find seats, as it was easy to be overwhelmed. The sound of laughter spread throughout the hall, down each and every one of the packed tables. Cadets of all shapes and sizes distracted Catra from the food, and so Adora had to rush her to finish.

 

Soon, they made their way to the locker rooms. Unoccupied, save for three anxious-looking cadets. They were part of Adora’s squad, and breathed a collective sigh of relief at the sight of her.

 

“Finally!” Said the first, a dark-skinned girl with dreads tied back behind her head. She seemed big for her age, taller than Adora and with the first signs of muscle definition trailing along her arms. She wore a green visor that shielded her dark eyes and looked Catra up and down, skeptical.

 

The other two were practicing together. A green, broad-chested lizard boy held out his hands for a much smaller, blond-haired child to throw punches at. Either the lizard was very resilient or the light-skinned boy was out of practice: the impacts were soft and quiet. Seeing the two newcomers, they nodded, and the lizard waved his tail at Catra. She returned the gesture.

 

“What took you so long? We barely have any time to prepare!” The large girl threw a square piece of chest armour to each of them. At the center was a green circle that pulsed with light. It tracked position, vitals, and was used as a way of indicating who was ‘out’ during mock battles. Adora showed Catra how to put it on.

 

“Relax,” Adora said. “You know we got this, Lonnie. Uh, whatever it is,” She smiled sheepishly. Adora introduced Catra to each of them; Lonnie, Kyle and Rogelio, who were all intrigued by their new squadmate.

 

“Is it true you tore apart a Horde stundroid with just your hands?” Kyle asked, to which Rogelio punched him in the arm for his bluntness. He stammered out a meek apology.

 

“I… don’t know,” Catra said, eyes vacant. A dagger bounced around her mind, and she clutched her head. It stopped, and she continued, “Probably, yeah, no biggie.”

 

Unlike Kyle, Lonnie wasn’t impressed, “Good. But if you wanna keep up with us you’ll need to do more than that. Adora has put us in the spotlight, and we’re gonna use it! At this rate we’ll be rolling up to the cafeteria as fully licensed tank operators!” She held Adora in a crushing one-armed embrace, and looked at the feline with a deadpan expression. “So you better not slow us down, Catra.”

 

“Oh, I’m anything but slow,” She said, grinning at Adora. Adora backed her up, clasping a hand on her shoulder and indicating to the boys to come over. She took out a chessboard and a random assortment of knick knacks from her locker, her brain beginning to ignite with strategy.

 

They gathered around it, and she placed the symbolic items down in an arrow formation. Adora was represented by a tiny sword taken from a toy warrior-princess that had since been confiscated as ‘contraband’. Lonnie was a model replica of a Horde walker, which took up an obscene amount of space, but she insisted on it and it was very cool. Rogelio was a spaceship which lit up and crackled with noise whenever you looked at it funny. Kyle was a comb, but often would use the little green alien that sat inside Rogelio’s spaceship.

 

She spoke fast, but clear, “Trust me guys, Catra’ll do fine. I think whatever we encounter in there we stick with the usual formation, but now we have Catra who will make a great scout. She’ll flank, Lonnie and I will take point, Rogelio holds the rear guard and Kyle...” She paused, losing momentum. “Stay in the middle.”

 

He saluted, and Catra raised a hand.

 

“Yes, Catra?” Beamed Adora, clearly in her element.

 

“What am I?” She asked, pointing at the chessboard.

 

“Uh…” Adora reached back into the locker, pulling out actual chess pieces. “You can be a knight piece, or a queen?”

 

“That’s BORING! I wanna be a SKULL, or a _laser rifle_!”

 

“Until we find one of those, you’re a queen,” Adora handed her the piece.

 

“Lame!” Catra moaned, and tossed the piece onto the board, jostling the sword out of position.

 

Adora huffed, recentered the pieces, and refocused her mind, before Catra raised her hand again.

 

“Catra?”

 

“Why am I not in this arrow thingy?”

 

“Do you know what flanking is?” Adora asked. “Or… when someone says ‘scout ahead’?”

 

Catra’s eyes darted back and forth. She looked at the others in hopes of psychically extracting the answer from one of their brains. She didn’t speak and crossed her arms. Lonnie groaned, pulling a hand down her face.

 

“Has she not gone to cadet orientation?”  

 

Adora laughed anxiously, her voice losing some of its bravado. “It’s _fine_!” She addressed Catra, “Look, when the fighting starts, we draw the attention while you sneak up behind the enemy, okay?”

 

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Catra asked, rubbing her arm, her cheeks red. “Easy.”

 

“Good!” Adora said, relieved. “But when you’re not fighting, I want you to roam in a consistent pattern from - ”

 

A buzzer sounded, obnoxious and loud, beckoning them into the training room. Adora’s heart sank, but they hastened on, weary and underprepared. At the entrance, they collected their weapons: the Horde baton. It was a versatile, non-lethal melee weapon that could shock combatants, as well as be split into two shorter, blunt objects that took more skill to use effectively. Adora showed Catra the power button, and where to twist in order to switch styles. Catra threw it into the air, watching it twirl, before catching it with ease, confident she could handle the weight. They continued in.

 

It was an immense room, one that could, through the power of First Ones’ technology, reconfigure its dimensions and terrain. It could also change its backdrop, transporting candidates to simulations of real places. Right now, however, it was inactive, and all that greeted the plucky young squad were dark red walls and the somber face of a combat instructor. Adora didn’t recognise him. He was a stocky, beast-like Force Captain, with dark skin and darker red hair surrounding his face and ending in a mighty beard.

 

“Cadets!” He barked. “I’m gonna keep this short, because you’ll need all the energy you can get, and inspiring children isn’t my strong point. This will be a test of endurance, primarily. You will encounter what you have been training for, and then some. Do what is necessary to survive, as you will be expected to in the future. You have an audience, so put on a good show. Your equipment is limited to the baton, and whatever you can find on the battlefield. Good luck.” With that, the Force Captain activated his own baton, electricity sparking at the tip. He only wore a uniform, no armour, meaning the squad would get no lucky hits on the ‘vital points’ that they all had to have equipped.

 

The room rumbled into action. Parts of the floor rose and fell, creating more dynamic terrain. Blocky imitations of trees, rocks and valleys were constructed before their eyes, sprouting from the ground in a surge of hollow life. Distortions in colour began from the far side of the room, gradually making its way towards the cadets. Light manifested from above, and the squad followed its trail to the moon, which began shining down on them, as real and cold as it would be outside. A forest landscape surrounded them in an instant, complete with vines, ancient trees and the magical fireflies of the Whispering Woods. The ground shook, and the walls, wherever they were, seemed to vibrate so intensely that sections fell apart, suddenly losing their starry disguise and leaving a black void behind. From the fallen panels came the sinister sound of a thousand metallic legs.

 

The cadets were frozen, all waiting for Adora to make the first move. Catra couldn’t make sense of what was happening: it was unreal by a nightmare’s standards. She gazed at the moon in wonder. Adora’s baton wasn’t powered; her eyes were locked on the hole in the sky - simply wanting to know what was making that noise, mind racing to catch up as everything around them changed. She realized too late, as the Force Captain charged towards them.

 

Before Adora’s baton came to life, the Force Captain was above her, attacking with an enormous overhead swing that any spectator would deem overkill. Lonnie dived in and intercepted it with a scream that shook Adora out of her daze. Lonnie had caught the enemy’s baton with her own, holding on to each end, but was being pushed to her knees by the strength of her foe. Her arms shook as she held out, the Force Captain taking his time to overpower her, with the electricity growing ever closer to her face.

 

Adora rushed him and landed a fully-powered hit to his center which pushed him back, forcing him to drop his baton. She held it to his torso, moving forward with all her might as the electricity surged through him. He held a roar behind his teeth before grabbing the weapon, arms convulsing. She dropped it just in time as he tossed it to the side with incredible force, clearly intending for her to go along with it. Lonnie was back in his face, keeping up the assault in order to give Adora a chance to back off and striking with short, safe blows to keep him at a distance.

 

“Adora!” A distressed voice came to her, and she turned to see Kyle and Rogelio who were under attack by the Horde’s dreaded spider drones.

 

There were a dozen that had already emerged, and more to come judging by the continued pitter-patter running through the vents that led to the ‘forest’. From a distance they were sharp, silver shapes whose strength was in numbers and jagged, unpredictable movements. They would swarm, grappling the enemy with their many limbs and subduing them with a subconcussive blast from their top-mounted weaponry. It wasn’t accurate, but with that many going off at once it didn’t need to be. The cadets had never fought them before: their difficulty couldn’t be adjusted like that of a stundroid or a generous Force Captain.

 

They had Kyle pinned, but Rogelio was tearing them off before they could manage a hit to the squirming boy’s head. Rogelio would target the limbs, snapping them off and throwing the disabled remnants at the others with his bare hands. They quickly reconfigured their targeting parameters and focused on the threat: the lizard’s arms. Rapid-fire shots caused them to go numb, so he used his tail defensively; shielding his head and swiping at those who got too close. Kyle, finally finding his baton amidst the steadily-piling wreckage of drones, used the opening to fry a couple of upturned spiders.

 

Adora could only catch glimpses of Catra, who would drop onto select spiders before retreating out of sight, stalking her prey from the false trees above. She would hit and run, maintaining an unpredictable pattern of attack that rendered her invisible to the drone’s AI. Even when the odd gutsy spider would take a shot at her, she would dodge without effort. Adora couldn’t tell if it was intentional or dumb luck, but was nonetheless impressed by the fact that Catra had listened to her plan. She was almost jealous - since Kyle had called out for her assistance - but with Catra supporting the boys, Adora made the decision to focus on the Force Captain.

 

The beast man was engaged with Lonnie, who would invite attacks only to pull back and refuse to engage. So much so that he grew tired of the faux-battle and turned his attention back to Adora, who he had yet to pay back for his singed chest hair. He bee-lined towards her, and sidestepped attempts from Lonnie to zap his legs. Adora felt like she was standing on train tracks as the brute raced towards her, but she kept composed and waited for the right time.

 

She was ready to evade, feint, and follow up, seeing the motions clearly in her mind. He stopped short, however, just as she began skirting around him. She had treated him like a robot on a predetermined path, but he was two steps ahead of her. Decelerating early gave him an extra second to change direction and lunge at her, colliding into her with all the force of an angry train.

 

Adora was stunned, and terrified that she couldn’t move under the weight of this behemoth. He was on top of her, holding her neck in one hand, and pressing down on both her legs with just one of his. With his free hand he picked up Adora’s baton and aimed directly for the glowing chest piece that, for all intents and purposes, was her heart.

 

Before he could plunge it down, Catra pounced onto his back, her hands over his face, screaming, “I WILL SLASH YOUR EYES!” over and over again. Adora had hoped it was an attempt to make him give in, but before she could find out how serious the feline was, the beast man had ripped her off of him, leaving harsh cuts across his cheeks. Adora used the opportunity to kick him in his beast-balls, encouraged by Catra’s fresh take on fighting, and the underpaid Force Captain howled with pain.

 

As if this wasn’t enough, Rogelio abruptly blindsided the man with a tackle that grounded him with a heavy ‘thump’. Meanwhile, Lonnie held off the spiders with Kyle, who had repurposed one of the spider’s weapons with a little electrical manipulation courtesy of the baton’s charge pack. By doing this he could use a detached spider-gun to cover Lonnie as if it was a regular rifle. Though its blasts did no physical damage, it disrupted their sensors enough to render them blind and helpless to Lonnie’s sweeping attacks.

 

With a large green tail wrapped around his neck, Adora practicing a submission hold on his legs, and the constant threat that Catra would _definitely_ poke out his eyes this time, the Force Captain gave in. The spiders deactivated and the fake world they inhabited faded away, returning to the peacefully blank dull walls they were so used to. All the platforms sank back into the ground, but the hole to the spider-vents remained.

 

The unmistakable voice of Shadow Weaver filled the now-empty space while the defeated foe made a hasty exit. While the rest of the squad caught their breath, Adora was standing to attention, and Catra was frozen in place. Thick, black smoke began seeping through the vent.

 

“Well done, cadets. Very impressive. In truth, this was not a battle to be won. Eventually, the spiders would have claimed you, had I deemed it appropriate. Had I used a more competent Force Captain,” Her voice was taut, bitter.

 

“Rest assured, the unsavoury means of achieving your victory do not diminish it. However, you were supposed to learn loss. Sacrifice. And you will learn it.”

 

The arena, now dead silent, changed once more. This time, it was not through the miracle of First Ones’ tech. The room was steadily being engulfed by an impenetrable blackness, which both Adora and Catra knew to be Shadow Weaver’s magic. It crept up the walls, slow as poison, leaving not an inch unclaimed. One by one the cadets lost each other in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty all for reading part 2! <3 This chapter will be submitted for day 1 of catradora week as part of the prompt exploring the horde and the girls' backstories within it. The third and final chapter will be out on day 7 as part of the prompt about their childhood memories. And because that's cheating I'm gonna try to do some smaller things for other prompts. Check out #catradoraweek2018 on Tumblr!
> 
> Feedback always appreciated, especially bout the fight scene! How was? Too fast? Not enough Kyle?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadow’s Weaver’s true test for the cadets begins. Adora struggles to be the person everyone thinks she is, while Catra finally comes to terms with her new life in the Horde. Is Shadow Weaver too much of a scar to bear for their young spirits; will they find solace in each other?

“In war, the enemy is not absolute,” Shadow Weaver’s voice sent shivers to the cadets, now hidden from each other by her black magic. It was in their minds - far too intimate. “No-one can be trusted. Those who held up a shield for you during your most difficult battles may just as easily stick a knife in your back.”

 

The cadets felt a thin, piercing pain slide between the notches of their spine that disappeared before any of them could scream. The room was freezing, and each of them could only see a few feet in front of them. Catra’s night vision was ineffective, and she was more alert than ever, ready to pounce at the slightest movement. Adora did her best to listen, but the baton shook between her hands.

 

“And so, this is now a free-for-all. Only one of you will come out on top today. A team is only as strong as its members, and this will weed out those of you incapable of shouldering the burden that the Horde demands of you. Be ready for anything, and do not rely on your senses. They _will_ deceive you.”

 

When silence resumed, the cadets found it more terrifying than when Shadow Weaver’s voice resounded in their head. For at least then, they were grounded by some familiarity. Without her, they resided in a cold, inescapable void that seemed to be swallowing them up and making them smaller with every passing second. Soon, they would simply not exist, and so they each decided to fight.

 

A baton could be heard powering up, somewhere in the vast and uncertain distance. Adora looked for the glow, but unsurprisingly found nothing. She moved forward, slowly and as quietly as she could, although stealth was never her strong suit. The ground, for the time being, was still flat, which meant everyone would be at the same height. Adora readied a thrusting strike level to whatever green chest-piece first came into sight.

 

Light, rapid footsteps sounded behind her, growing closer. Adora tensed up and tried to control her breathing, before the noise faded away into the unknown.

 

Catra was darting from point to point. She would not let anyone get the upper hand on her. They might be able to hear her, but they would never be able to catch up. If _she_ heard pursuers, she would change direction and lie in wait for them to cross her path. Her plan was to ambush the first person she saw. She had switched the baton into two, intending to distract an unlucky squadmate by throwing one of them while moving in and using the other to land a critical hit on the armour’s vital point.

 

Voices spoke to her inside her head. They were muffled and distressed, urging her to remember something; demanding that she survive. She didn’t understand, as this training would not kill her. She hated listening to her thoughts.

 

A boy’s scream broke pulled her away from her mind. Catra knew it was Kyle. She did not follow it, as it could easily be a trap. She continued her patrol, but circled what she thought was the source of the noise in hopes of catching any do-gooders charging on the scene.

 

Adora rushed towards the sound, not knowing what she would find, or whether she would attack the perpetrator. All she knew was that she couldn’t ignore it. Judging by what she found, she was surprised anyone else could.

 

Kyle was dangling over the side of a pit that glowed fiery red like a furnace. It lit up the area, a volcano erupting in the dark, and it made Adora’s eyes temporarily lose focus with the sudden intake of colour. He struggled to gain purchase with one arm frantically grasping the ledge. It seemed to be pushing him back the more he fought against it, liquid smooth shadows emanating from the side and streaming over his face. He managed to get above the current for long enough to meet Adora’s eyes. She had never seen him so scared before. From the way his pupils moved so erratically, she could tell he thought he would lose his life.

 

She ran to him. A fair fight on solid land would not be nearly so terrifying for the poor child. Reaching out for his arm just in time to catch him, she struggled to heft him back up. She was not as strong as Lonnie yet, which Kyle could tell as he grabbed on to her hand with his other arm. She was losing her footing, and used one hand to desperately hold on to the ground. Her legs slipped against the smoky, wet floor, and shadows rose to caress her face.

 

They touched her ears and clouded her eyes. Her baton changed into a sword; a horrid, rusty blade that was crooked at the end. Kyle suddenly looked so much heavier than he was worth, a rat digging his nails in to her in a selfish bid for safety.

 

 _“Sever his arm,”_ Came the voice of Shadow Weaver. “ _Save yourself_.”

 

Adora screamed and thrashed at the nightmare with her whole body. Kyle fell, an agonisingly long cry echoing down the hole into oblivion. Adora hyperventilated, and had to remind herself that he was not dead. Tears welled up in her eyes; she knew she would never forget this moment. The shadows ceased pushing her down, and the red light that spewed upwards from the hole disappeared as it closed. If that was what the voice said to her, she could only imagine what it was telling Kyle.

 

Catra heard this, and could no longer ignore the action. The longer she was alone, with no sense of place and no one to be with, the more voices railed against her mind. She longed to feel the wind, to see the sky, and Adora, once more.

 

Before Catra could decide on a direction, she heard the telltale crackle of electricity and shifted her head to the side. Lonnie’s baton had narrowly missed, but took a few burnt hairs. Catra turned just in time to deflect another strike with one of her batons, and attempted to disarm the attacker with a hit from the other. Lonnie’s grip stood firm, however, and Catra received a headbutt for her troubles.

 

It sent Catra reeling to the floor, and, looking up, she saw in Lonnie’s stony eyes an unwavering dedication to the Horde that she herself would never possess. The girl was better trained, stronger and had the advantage of a powered baton where Catra had opted for two sticks. She was beginning to regret that as Lonnie went for her core with a downward attack.

 

Catra rolled out of the way, swearing she heard the ground where she once lay crack, and jumped to her feet some distance away from the powerhouse of a woman. Lonnie was shouting with exertion, every strike a near-deadly one. Catra could only hope she was light-footed enough to tire her out, but even if she did, she was not eager to get close enough to her for the final blow.

 

Adora could hear the sounds of fighting, but found it hard to move. She couldn’t bare to face another friend. If she was willing to sacrifice them all, what did that make her? Was proving herself worth all the stepping stones she would have to force underwater to keep herself afloat? She knew it was only training, but she believed Shadow Weaver when she spoke about loss. It would come, sooner or later, and Adora was not prepared for it.

 

Rogelio, with a guttural roar, broke her out of her gloom. He towered above, just out of melee range, and beckoned her to attack him. Adora could barely meet his eyes, but when she did, she saw in them a hatred rivaling that of Shadow Weaver. He knew what she did, she thought, and wanted to cry.

 

Rogelio wouldn’t let her, and advanced, slowly. As much as Adora barely cared about the outcome of the battle at this point, she was still a fighter. It was in her blood, for better or worse. She rose to her feet and took a deep breath.

 

Rogelio was a grappler, so Adora knew to watch out for advancing motions and to always be aware of where his tail was. His baton was holstered but powered: he would only use it to end the battle when his target was disabled. The best way to combat him would be to anticipate and retaliate. The claws could be a problem, but Rogelio was a sweetheart and didn’t like to use them. She hated analysing her friends like this, but swallowed bitterness and made the first move.

 

She made a few safe, cursory swipes at him, trying to encourage an attack. Rogelio waited, arms crossed. He was not going to be fooled this easily. He was waiting for his own opening, and with Adora’s nerves the way they were, she was afraid she was going to give it to him. His tail lazily drifted from side to side, which infuriated Adora with its passivity.

 

She drove a one-handed wide swing towards his right side, aiming for the head. He raised his arm to block it, and Adora, feinting, caught him with a hook from her left hand. She retreated immediately, and he snarled at her, appalled by her brazenness. He went for his own hay-maker, which Adora ducked. She guided the baton up to his chin, which connected only slightly as he raised his head just in time to avoid an instant knockout.  

 

In response, Rogelio wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug that squeezed the air out of her. She dropped the baton to the ground, and soon followed it as Rogelio took her down. He began trying to coil his tail around both her legs, which she would keep kicking out of, but it was getting hard to resist and harder to breathe. All that was left was her arms and she would be helpless.

 

He released the bear hug when her legs were fully constricted, and quickly subdued one arm over her other with his own. With her arms pinned to the floor, her twisted body ignited with a painful burning sensation. As he took out the baton, Adora’s arm slipped free thanks to the shadowy ground that gave up its solidity just for her.

 

She reeled around with an elbow, which she could feel knock a tooth loose from the lizard’s snout. He fell on his back in anguish, and Adora brought the fight to a close with his own baton, plunging it into his chest-piece. It powered down, and Adora gasped for air on top of him.

 

“Sorry,” She said.

 

Rogelio, ever the orator, simply spat his tooth out the side of his mouth and let his head drop. Two down, two to go, Adora thought.

 

Catra was exhausted, and Lonnie was not. It was taking more energy to dodge Lonnie’s attacks than it seemed to be costing her to make them. Catra had been trying to throw her off-balance, weaving and scratching at her foe whenever her batons were lost to some particularly big hits. She had bruises everywhere, and was bleeding from her nose after that headbutt. Lonnie had lacerations all along her arms, which she seemed to revel in.

 

“I was wrong about you,” She said, laughing, using yet more of her endless supply of breath. “You fight well. Dirty, but well.” She dropped her baton to the floor, cracking her knuckles. “But let’s get this over with, yeah? I’m ‘bout to break a sweat over here.”

 

Catra did not want to drop her weapons. Lonnie’s confidence overwhelmed her, and Catra didn’t understand how she could keep fighting, or what could motivate a person to such extremes as to carry all these wounds with a smile.

 

 _“Because you are weak,”_ Shadow Weaver’s words gnawed at her heart. _“Your tricks and carelessness cannot begin to compare to the loyalty that resides within this girl. You have NOTHING, while she will have all of Etheria quake before her. Give up, savage, and accept that your luck has run out.”_

 

The voice was endless in her ears, fierce and earsplitting. Lonnie was saying something, but Catra couldn’t hear. It would berate her forever; Catra had heard the same things in her dreams. On and on it went.

 

_Worthless._

 

_Fool._

 

_Weakling._

 

_Coward._

 

“SHUT UP!” Catra screamed, and Lonnie was taken aback. The voices stopped, knowing the climax was in sight. Tears were streaming down Catra’s face, and she was hot with fury and misery. Seconds passed in the quiet, heavy air.

 

Whatever words Lonnie was about to offer, whether comforting or mocking, were cut off by a baton thrown straight at her head. Adora’s baton caught her right between the eyes, fortunately with the blunt end. It knocked her to one knee, and she held the injury tightly. Catra saw Adora sprinting at Lonnie, primed to tackle her to the ground.

 

Before Adora could reach her, a geyser of black uprooted Adora from the floor and suspended her in the air. It contained her and spoke to her, while Catra, seeing red, charged at Lonnie, who was still disoriented.

 

_“It is commendable, what you do Adora. In any other circumstances these heroic deeds you commit might be made into songs that would last a lifetime. But not here. I know you understand me. Your connections with these people are ultimately weaknesses. You stubbornly refuse to accept this, but in time you will see what such an attitude will cost you. Sacrifice, Adora is - ”_

 

Something had cut off Shadow Weaver’s voice. The black coating the cadets’ vision, and the walls, dissipated. Soon after, the geyser propelling Adora upwards gradually lost its pressure, and gently sat her back on solid land.

 

She saw Catra holding Lonnie’s neck with her claws buried deep into the armour’s core. Catra was seething, but her victim only returned a scoff of disapproval. Catra pushed her back down and stood over her, before meeting eyes with Adora.

 

The turbulence inside both their heads came to a rest, for now, though the effects would always linger. Adora looked at Catra, whose mismatched eyes were still shaking free the fear from deep within. Catra gazed back, and saw the tiredness and loss of innocence mirrored in Adora’s own blue eyes.

 

“Are you okay?” Adora asked.

 

“Yeah… fine... are you?”

 

“Not really,” She gave a weak smile.

 

Catra wearily crouched down and picked up her two batons. She tossed one to Adora.

 

“Come on then, slowpoke. I’m about done with this, too.”

 

The girls’ fought fairly, for what was the first time today. They traded attack for attack, eager to see what the other could do and trusting in one another’s restraint, or perhaps exhaustion. Neither duty nor rage motivated the battle; it was cathartic, like good exercise should be. They soon found themselves laughing at each near-miss or accidental tumble. In the final attack, one hesitated and the other did not.

 

* * *

 

“But Lord Hordak, I - “

 

“Enough, Shadow Weaver,” Lord Hordak never had to raise his voice to interrupt Shadow Weaver.

 

From beyond the communications screen she could feel his disappointment. She had, fortunately, never been the victim of his _anger_ , if it were possible to induce such vulnerability in the Horde leader. His impish spy smiled at the sorceress, and she could do nothing but scowl behind her dark mask.

 

“The energy given off from the black garnet in that one room has nearly rivaled that to which was used to defeat the princess alliance. And _you_ used it to scare _children_. There is no excuse for this. Our training regiments are strict enough without you giving the candidates nightmares. I am tired of you playing favourites, Shadow Weaver. Always remember that the black garnet is _mine_ , as is every child under your watch.”

 

Shadow Weaver was silent for a time, “I understand, Lord Hordak. Please forgive my carelessness.”

 

“I would call it _childishness_ , but no matter.” The imposing shadow on the screen was ready to end communications, when he added, “By the way, it appears as though you have a winner.” The screen went black.

 

Shadow Weaver peered into the black garnet, and a ghostly frame showed her a picture of the two girls. Catra was standing above Adora, whose green vital point flickered and died. She was smiling up at her assailant, who stared back in surprise, before feigning bravado.

 

Shadow Weaver’s shriek nearly splintered the black garnet as she held onto it for support.

 

* * *

 

 

The cadets were given the rest of the day off, as Shadow Weaver did not make an appearance to debrief them, which they were all thankful for. Lonnie, Rogelio and Kyle kept their distance from the other two girls the rest of the day, which wracked Adora with guilt. The events would replay in her mind: letting Kyle go, breaking Rogelio’s tooth, and catching Lonnie off-guard in a fight that wasn’t hers. And with all those sacrifices, she still didn’t win. Not that she wanted to. She didn’t deserve it.

 

Catra tried to make her feel better for the rest of the afternoon. She took her to the training dummies again, but Adora was too worn out to practice. Catra told her that she was going to steal the keys to a tank, but found it a lot more difficult to accomplish in reality. She convinced Octavia to give them a frankly ridiculous amount of food, but Adora wouldn’t eat.

 

Eventually, Adora decided on an early night. She had a shower, dressed for bed, and found Catra sitting on her bunk, waiting. The feline’s ears were down, like her eyes, and she held onto her tail while she spoke.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Adora was confused, “For what?”

 

“For winning! I know you wanted to, that’s like your whole thing, isn’t it? I didn’t think I was gonna! But you just - ”

 

“That’s not it!” Adora yelled, feeling the tears resurface, her throat tight. She sat down next to Catra, but would seldom look at her, ashamed. With great effort, she spoke, treating each trembling breath with care. “I hurt my friends. All of them.”

 

Catra hesitantly took Adora’s hand, “You didn’t hurt me.”

 

The tears fell, and it felt so good. “Show-off,” Adora giggled, before sniffing back the flow of mucus. “I could’ve. I… would’ve… that’s how it is.” Her head hung low and heavy.

 

“Says who?” Catra asked, indignant.

 

Adora said nothing, which spoke volumes. Catra had thought that Shadow Weaver was only in _her_ mind. All the distance between them evaporated. Catra processed her thoughts, opening her mouth before closing it again, reshuffling the words.

 

“I think she did something to my head,” She spoke quietly. “I don’t remember anything but… surviving. Hunting out in… I - ” Her voice broke, it was high pitched and uncoordinated. “I don’t know where. I don’t know who I am…”

 

Adora saw that Catra was crying. Catra returned the look and let the warmth stream down her face, begging Adora for answers. Adora listened, unable to act.

 

“I was fighting them. Everyone tells me I was fighting them… so why am I here? I don’t understand.” She was sobbing now, and Adora held her close, letting the tears dry into her shirt. She stroked the lost girl’s ears and whispered soft soothing sounds into them. She was so thankful for the crying girl for making her feel human again, but so distraught hearing what she had to say.

 

“Where are my parents?” Catra heaved. Adora held her tighter, no answers for either of them. How she wished she could say something, the magic words that might send Catra a ray of hope. Instead, she just shed tears into her hair, thinking of her own absent family.

 

After a time, when the worst was over, and they were too hot to cling to each other, they separated. Catra used her tail to wipe down both of their faces; the dorms would be full of sleeping cadets in no time. Adora tried her best to put her thoughts into a plan of action, like she had done with so many tests and encounters in the past.

 

“I don’t know where… or who, our parents are. I hope we’ll find out,” She sniffled. “But maybe we don’t need to. You heard what she said. We weren’t supposed to finish that first test. We’re strong, Catra. _Really_ strong. In no time we’ll be the ones in charge around here. If getting through her games is all it takes to have the future for ourselves… then, bring it on, right?”

 

Catra rubbed her eyes with a hand. She loved how Adora used words. How did she always make everything sound so clear-cut? Why were the answers always so obvious?

 

“How are you not scared of her?” Catra asked, starry-eyed.

 

“I’m scared of her,” Adora admitted. “Whenever she talks to me, I freeze up. I listen, which… she likes. And I try to do what she tells me. It’s not like I can do anything else. But one day, Catra, I swear we won’t have to worry about her, or what she thinks.”

 

Adora was holding Catra’s hand so hard that it hurt. How Adora’s thoughts bled through her arm and crushed her hand, to Catra, felt awesome. Rulers of the world, soon enough, and her mind broadened with possibilities that she couldn’t wait to act upon. For now, she only felt like doing one thing. She gave Adora a big smooch on the cheek, unable to hold back her laughter as she did.

 

Adora blushed, and giggled alongside her. “Gross!” She still held her close, and asked, “So, do you feel better now?”

 

“ _I_ was trying to comfort _you_. Do you feel better now?”

 

“Yes,” Adora said, beaming a beautiful smile at Catra.

 

“Well, you can sleep now, if you want. We can say sorry to those guys tomorrow.”

 

“I’m not tired.” Adora said, playful and wide awake.

 

The two of them stayed up way later than was allowed reading Adora’s collection of ‘The Princess and You’ books, drawing, and playing games that she had picked up from other cadets.

 

“Okay, you be the princess, and I’ll be the Force Captain with nothing left to lose.”

 

“I don’t wanna be the princess,” Catra complained. “You be her!”

 

“Alright, I use magic missile!” Adora held a pose that suggested she was charging something in her hand, before letting it fly at Catra, who was on the other side of the bed.

 

“I dodge out of the way with my superior Horde reflexes!” To demonstrate, Catra grabbed on to the bunk above them and flipped herself to the top. Her face popped over the other side and seemed to say, _Not bad, right?_

 

“In that case,” Adora said, reaching up to the bars that held the top bunk together. “I cast earth-shattering force!” She shook the bed violently, and Catra feigned a theatrical fall from the top that she landed with ease. Cadets that were trying to sleep nearby would try to shush them, but the girls were having too much fun to notice.

 

“That’s it!” Catra said, determined. “This ends now. Artillery strike!” Catra pointed a finger at Adora, designating her target.

 

“You can’t blow up what you can’t see! Invisibility!” Adora said, waving her hands in front of her. “Close your eyes!” She demanded.

 

Catra obliged, but had other tricks up her sleeve. “Princesses never leave home without their perfume! My sense of smell will find you,” She started sniffing dramatically, eyes still shut. Adora felt that Catra was far too powerful, but if she said as much she would give away her location. She held her breath and covered her mouth while Catra slinked around the bed, barely containing her amusement at the silly-looking cat.

 

Catra started with the top bunk as Adora hid in the corner where the bed met the wall on her side. Deciding that there were no princess fumes in this direction, Catra dropped down to the ground. She resumed sniffing, in the direction of the other cadets at first, but quickly locking on to the princess behind her. She moved in closer to Adora, on all fours as she took in the scent of the ground, the remnants of her magical missile, and eventually the princess’ hair. She grew so close that her nose began tickling Adora’s neck. Adora could hold out no longer, and gave away her position with a laugh.

 

“Got you!” Catra said, chomping down on Adora’s neck with a light, mischievous bite.

 

Adora let out a death rattle appropriate to the character she had made for herself - flamboyant, shrill and full of lost hopes and dreams.

 

When they had decided they were too tired to continue, and simply couldn’t ignore all the complaints they were getting from their entire dorm, they resolved to go to sleep. Catra, looking up at the isolated top bunk, asked Adora a question as she was slipping between the sheets.

 

“Can I… sleep down here with you? I have bad dreams, and - and I’d feel better if…”

 

Adora opened the sheets for her, and Catra glowed a rosy shade that made her warm inside.

 

“I meant, like, the end of the bed’s fine, but… if you want, I’m like - totally good to.... Yeah,” She trailed off, her words going nowhere.

 

In the night, Catra’s purring would ward off any of Adora’s unwanted thoughts, and Adora’s gentle breathing would make Catra feel like she was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for making it to the end of this story, I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I was in tears by the end - the loss of memory theme that the show plays with is, to me, devastating, so I had to make up for it with some soft fluff. I JUST WANT THESE GIRLS TO BE HAPPY AND TO KNOW WHO THEY ARE. I love feedback, so please comment with whatever comes to mind, and I love all of you! <3


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